More Than a Kid
by everlovingdeer
Summary: "Maybe I shouldn't have pretended not to remember," he said quietly. "But, really, I knew things would get this awkward if you found out and I don't see why it's such a big deal." "Well it's a big deal to me," I cut in, trying not to seem hurt that my feelings weren't a 'big deal' to him. "Look Harry, what's it going to take for you to forget what I'd said?"
1. More Than a Kid

Ginny was pushing it.

My dormmate/best friend was really pushing it. She had kept me up late last night because she had wanted someone she could discuss her relationship problems with, someone who wouldn't judge her. I had listened with open ears as she vented about what was going on with her and Dean and had offered what little advice I could. Granted, most of the advice I'd offered was stuff that I'd read in Witch Weekly but what else did she expect from a woman who was suffering a long standing one sided crush? But it seemed like my advice had helped her and that was all I could hope for.

But she was really pushing her luck now. Before going to bed last night, she had asked for me to wake up early because quidditch try outs were to take place and she didn't want to eat breakfast on her own. So, as a good friend did, I woke up early the next morning and decided to wait for her in the common room. I assumed that she would have been down within a few minutes but that was over an hour ago.

Just as I went to go back upstairs and wake her up, I found another reason to stay where I was. Harry, walking down the stairs, spotted me sat alone on one of the sofas and made his way towards me.

Godric, Harry fucking Potter. What was it about him that made it so impossible to get over him? Merlin's beard Ginny was my best friend and I _knew_ how she felt about him, how she had always felt about him and this crush just made me feel guilty, like I was betraying her trust. And yet, no matter how much I tried to rationalise with myself that Harry was off limits, no matter how many other boys I tried to become attracted to, it always came back to Harry bleeding Potter. The same Harry Potter who saw me as nothing more than a kid. As if that wasn't insulting enough.

"Galleon for your thoughts," he said as he settled down beside me.

I shook my head with a smile, "My thoughts aren't worth that much."

He frowned at my words but said, "You seem worried about something. Is something wrong?"

"I'm always worried about something," I dismissed, turning towards him. "Ginny tells me that there's try outs today?"

Harry tried his best to hide the way his expression shifted at the mention of Ginny and I tried my best to not seem hurt that for him it was always Ginny. His face always fell at the simple mention of her name and he'd look away, never seeing the way that _my_ face fell to see him in such a state. Godric, this sucked.

As I studied his features, I wondered what it would take for him to notice me, to look past Ginny, just once, and to see my standing right behind her. Why was it that he seemed to forget that through it all, through the moments when Ron wasn't speaking to him, when even Hermione wasn't speaking to him, when no one in the house seemed to believe him, I was there. Merlin, even if he did notice me then I wouldn't do anything about it, not with Ginny around. I couldn't hurt her that way. And yet, the moment she and Harry got together – and they inevitably would – I'd become hurt and she wouldn't notice because I'd never told her about my feelings for him.

Merlin, I'd have taken falling for Crabbe or Goyle over being in such a ridiculous situation. I made a face at the mental image and shuddered internally, taking back my words. Malfoy then, I'd choose Malfoy over being stuck in this situation.

With a sigh, he brushed a hand through his already unruly hair, "I'm nervous about the actual try outs. It's my first big role as the team captain and I don't want to screw it up by doing something stupid and picking the wrong players for the team."

"This must be a first; the captain being the nervous one," I teased, nudging him in an attempt to get him to smile, "Shouldn't the people trying out be the ones that are nervous?"

"Well I've always done things differently."

"There's no denying that," I muttered dryly.

"Ron's really nervous," he said all of a sudden, looking away from me and towards the lit fire. He watched the embers sparking as he thought for a moment. "I have a plan on how to remove his nervous and Godric, I hope it works. I couldn't stand to have McLaggen on the team."

"Oh, God – the entire team would hate you for putting him on the team." Eyeing the older man suspiciously, I asked, "Your plan, it doesn't involve the vial of felix felicis you won, does it?"

He looked to me with blatant surprise written across his features, "How did you find out about that?"

"First of all, the entire house was surprised that you managed to brew a potion at Hermione couldn't," I revealed with a roll of my eyes, "and secondly, what sort of secret is there within Gryffindor that stays a secret within this house?"

"It's because this house is full of nosey buggers."

Narrowing my eyes playfully, I demanded, "Why does that seem like a rather pointed statement, Mr Potter."

"That's because it is, Kennedy." He reached over to rub a hand over my hair, "You're one nosey kid."

"Oh, piss off," I muttered, pushing his hand away.

He chuckled quietly, growing silent as I pulled my hair out of my ponytail to retie it moments later. He asked quietly, "Are you going to come and watch the try outs?"

"Should I?"

"Yeah, come along." He rose to his feet, looking back towards the stairs he'd walked down from, "I'm going to change into my quidditch gear and wake Ron for breakfast. I'll see you at try outs?"

"See you there," I confirmed, looking back to the stairs leading to the girl's dorm, wondering if I should wake Ginny.

It wasn't going to be an easy task and I risked potentially being hexed by her but she'd kill me if she ended up missing the try outs. With a sigh, I pushed myself to my feet and headed towards the stairs.

* * *

Let it be known that Harry James Potter was one dramatic bastard, especially when he'd had more than his fair share to drink. Colin had been sent to sneak some firewhisky out from the kitchens and when Harry had gotten his hands on one of the tumblers I had no idea. Wasn't someone supposed to be keeping an eye on the quidditch players to make sure that no one got too drunk? Or maybe that was the job of the captain who was becoming drunk himself.

Now Harry wasn't a bad drunk – in a sense. His bad drinking habit was that the filter he seemed to possess suddenly disappeared and he would talk and _talk_ for ages. He'd start talking about a whole list of random things until he got progressively darker and then you were forced to listen to his most inner thoughts. Nobody wanted to be the person that he chose to spill his guts to and from experience, I sure as hell did _not_ want to be chosen.

My eyes drifted to the 'chosen one' who was walking through the common room, talking to people as he went. Usually by now Ron would've swept in to talk to him but he was otherwise 'occupied' and so Harry was out on the prowl. Turning away from the older man, I looked back to Colin as he spoke about something or another. He spoke enthusiastically, hands waving as he spoke.

"So?" he asked, "What do you think I should do?" I waited silently, hoping that he'd continue to speak so I wouldn't have to admit to him that I hadn't been paying attention, "About Nott?"

"Oh," I said quietly. The entire castle knew about Colin's very one-sided love for the older witch and personally, like many of the other people in the house, I didn't see what he liked about her. Not that I'd ever tell Colin. The last time someone had criticised the witch in front of Colin, the boy had uncharacteristically turned his wand on them.

"She's become really withdrawn," he carried on, "and I just think that there's something wrong."

"Well don't push her into telling you. You might end up pushing her further away."

"So I need to wait for her to open up." At my nod he whined helplessly, "But I don't think I can do that."

"Don't think you can do what?" Drunk Harry asked, throwing an arm over Colin's shoulder and leaned heavily on the younger boy.

"Godric Harry," Colin staggered slightly, helping Harry over to one of the sofas when it looked like he was going to fall, "how much have you had to drink?"

"2 bottles," he answered with a grin, holding 3 fingers up. Staring at his fingers with a contemplative glance, he looked back to Colin and me with a sheepish smile, "Maybe 3."

"Honestly," I muttered with a shake of my head.

Turning away from him, I went to take my chance and leave Colin to listen to Harry's blubbering. Except I couldn't. Harry had reached out to take my hand and pulled me down so I was sprawled on the sofa beside him. Colin gladly took the opportunity to leave and I glared at his back.

"Let's talk, Kennedy," he said already growing more sombre. Merlin, it was beginning already.

"About what?" I asked, giving up and resigning myself to my fate.

"Am I ugly?" he wondered with a pout, "Sirius said dad was handsome and everyone tells me I look like him, so I'm not. Right?" I looked away from him, realising he was waiting for an answer. "Godric!" he cried, looking on the verge of tears, "I'm _ugly_ , aren't I?"

I hurried to reassure him that he wasn't ugly when he began to pull on his hair. My God, drunk Harry was my least favourite version of Harry.

"Of course you're not," I muttered, feeling a headache already forming as I forcefully stopped him from pulling chunks of his hair out. Merlin, where was Hermione when you needed her?

Harry wasn't listening to my words. Instead he gagged and I recoiled, threats leaving my mouth about what would happen to him if he threw up. He calmed himself, shaking his head and reaching to take my face in his hands.

"I'm not gonna be sick," he promised, slurring his words together as he squished my cheeks between his hands. "Promise. I just need to lie down."

"Where are you going to lie down?" I asked, exasperated.

Again, he paid me no heed and instead sprawled himself across the sofa. Nestling his head on my thighs, he laid himself across the sofa and hung his legs over the side. Closing his eyes, he gave a content smile.

"There. All better."

"Godric Harry," I muttered, running a hand over his head, "You're going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning. Normally you don't drink so much; what's gotten into you?"

"I saw them," he remarked grumpily, "in the corner of the common room. Snogging like their lives depended on it."

I didn't ask him to specify who he was referring to. I didn't need to. Instead I sighed and looked down at him as he rolled towards me and burrowed his face in my shirt and took a deep breath.

"Why does it hurt so much?" he wondered quietly and I barely heard the words above the noise of the common room, "Not that you'd understand Kennedy and you'll probably say I'm being dramatic but I feel like I've had my heart broken."

For a brief moment I wondered whether I should correct him that I _did_ know what it was like to have my heart broken, that it broke a little more every day. And perhaps I shouldn't have done but I rationalised that he wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. Besides, Witch Weekly said that speaking about repressed feelings was the first step in getting over them.

"I do know what it feels like Harry," I said gently. When the boy gave no reaction, I assumed that he had probably fallen asleep and that was fine. It meant that he definitely wouldn't remember what I was saying. "Godric Harry, it feels like my heart gets broken every single day. Every time I see the way you look at Ginny and see that it's a reflection of the way I look at you, my heart breaks a little more inside. When you call me a kid and when your eyes skim over me when you're looking around the room only to settle on Ginny moments later, it breaks my heart. Merlin, I know that I'm nothing more than a kid to you but that doesn't make it any easier. So I do know what you're experiencing."

Silence followed my admission and I was relieved for it. Harry was asleep, he hadn't heard a word I'd said and we could carry on as normal. He would remain oblivious to my truth and I would feel lighter because I had finally said the words aloud. That had been the plan.

It all flew out the window when Harry rolled onto his back, looking up at me with those clear green eyes. Godric, the drunk glaze in them had disappeared and he stared up at me like he had no idea what to say.

"Leave it Harry," I said gently, firmly when he opened his mouth.

He searched my eyes for a moment, looking like he was going to argue but he didn't. Instead he rolled over again and was promptly asleep. I let out a relieved breath, taking the glasses from his eyes and putting them in his shirt pocket. He'd forget it all in the morning.

Except, he didn't.

* * *

Harry had tried his best to make sure that I didn't realise that he remembered everything that happened on the night of the party. I could only assume that he'd done so because he didn't want it to get awkward between us and I was more than grateful that he had forgotten about my confession. It was through an accidental blunder on his part that I found out that he _did_ remember what happened during the party. We had been eating breakfast in the great hall and I had been sat with Ginny whilst the Golden Trio were seated a little further up the table.

He had been speaking to Ron who was grilling Hermione and Harry about what they'd done during the party. He'd turned to Harry and asked him why he'd come back to the common room to find him asleep on the sofa. Harry had turned to Ron and told him that he was comfortable sleeping where he was and that he'd had a comfortable pillow. I could still remember the apprehension that bloomed in my stomach as I tuned Ginny out and listened to their conversation. I was so certain that Harry didn't remember anything but that was dashed the moment Harry had told Ron that he'd used me as a pillow.

I sucked in a deep breath and looked to Harry. I saw the moment where he realised what he'd admitted, his features clouded over, eyes widening as they scanned across the table, fearful that I had heard him. His eyes settled on me and as he realised that I was well within earshot, guilt crossed his features. I turned away from him, looking back to my plate as horror ate away at my appetite.

From that moment on, the boy-who-lived began his crusade to explain, apologise or do whatever it was that he was dying to do. But at that moment, I had also vowed to escape his presence so I could face him with a level head when I was less embarrassed. Godric, maybe I'd even wait until I got over him so I could pass it all off as being nothing big.

For all my thoughts about not thinking about Harry and not remembering the 'event' as I had taken to calling it, it was certainly all I could think about since I had found out. Even here, at Slughorn's party where I thought I'd be distracted by the food and the people that were attending it, I still found myself thinking about it. I could only apologise to my potions partner who I'd gotten to attend the party with me. Poor Boot hadn't managed to hold throughout the party.

Even now as he talked about something to the older wizard Slughorn had introduced us to, my eyes drifted over his shoulder and towards the door as guests continued to arrive. Of course. Even when I had no idea that he was going to step into the room, Harry Potter still managed to catch my attention. I watched as he walked into the room, looking around it as Slughorn approached him. I expected Harry's eyes to skim over me, as they always had done and as they would continue to do, but they didn't. From across the room his eyes settled onto me and there they stayed. Even when Slughorn approached him to talk to him.

It was, for once, that my eyes skimmed past him and settled on the witch beside him. Luna bounced on her feet a little as she looked around the room, much like Harry had done. Except the moment she laid eyes on me she bounded over to me and wrapped me in her arms.

I stumbled back a little from the force of her hug and Boot had to wrap an arm around me to help me stay upright. Returning Luna's hug, I smiled at Boot from over her shoulder.

"Thanks Andrew," my words were lost somewhere in Luna's hair.

"Any time," he said with a smile as Luna stepped away from me to engage her fellow Ravenclaw in a conversation.

Excusing myself to get a drink, I took the long way round to the table where refreshments were being kept and eyed the room shiftily. Even when I reached the table I kept an open eye on the people who were walking around.

"What's going on?" a voice asked suddenly from beside my ear.

I jumped in fright, raising a hand to my thundering heart. "Godric Harry," I hissed, thumping the older man on the chest. "Why would you sneak up on someone like that? And for your information, I'm keeping an eye out for McLaggen; ever since Hermione ran away from him he's looking for another victim."

He grinned, laughing as I helped myself to a drink. His laughs faded slightly as he said, "This is the first time we've spoken in a week."

I stilled at his words. "Harry –"

"Maybe I shouldn't have pretended not to remember," he said quietly, leaning closer to me as he spoke when one of the other guests approached the table. "But, really, I knew things would get this awkward if you found out and I don't see why it's such a big deal."

"Well it's a big deal to me," I cut in, trying not to seem hurt that my feelings weren't a 'big deal' to him. "Look Harry, what's it going to take for you to forget what I'd said?"

"And what if I don't want to forget?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

I stared back at him, emotionless as I tried to control my thoughts. What did he mean he didn't want to forget? No matter what it was he meant, I wasn't going to stay around him until I got my thoughts under control. With that in mind, I turned to leave him alone.

"You look nice," I heard him call after me as I went to return to Andrew's side.

* * *

Ginny and Dean's break up had travelled through the house merely moments after it happened. It had caught most of the house by surprise. But when you were best friends with one of the people involved and were privy to every argument the pair had had, then it seemed like an eventuality. And the only other remaining eventuality was the moment 'Hinny' became a thing. I promised myself that the moment the pair of them started dating I'd force myself to get over Harry. Although my attempts to do so had yet to be successful, I was _not_ going to crush on my best friend's boyfriend. That was a line I wasn't going to cross.

Since Ginny and Dean's break up a few weeks ago our entire dorm room was abuzz with gossip about how and when Hinny would become a thing. The girls didn't bother to stop talking about the topic whenever Ginny entered the room and because she hadn't told them to shut up they had assumed that they could keep doing it. Tonight was no different.

As I clambered into my bed I picked up the letter mum had written to me, and started to read it through. I was barely a sentence in when the girls began talking and laying bets on how much longer it would be before Harry and Ginny became Hinny. My attention was no longer in the words written on the parchment and no matter how much I wanted to pay attention to them, I couldn't.

The girls, as if realising that I was in the room, clambered onto my mattress and made themselves at home. I eyed them with annoyance and waited for the questions to begin.

"Have you heard anything?" Heather asked straight away.

"About what, exactly?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, folding my letter back up again and putting it away for now.

"Harry and Ginny!" Lydia exclaimed, reaching forward to take my hand in hers, "You're Ginny's best friend, she'll have told you if anything's happened."

"Why don't you just ask her yourself?" I suggested, pulling my hand from hers and fidgeting with my duvet.

"Because she won't tell us!" They sighed, as if I was torturing them by depriving them of information. "You know that."

"Well if you know that it's something she won't tell you, don't you think that means it's something you shouldn't be talking about." They scoffed at my reasoning, "Anyway, I can't tell you anything when I don't know myself."

"There's no need to lie," Heather cajoled.

"It's true," Ginny called out from the open doorway of our dorm. The two girls, surprised by her sudden entrance, scrambled from my bed and to their own. "She can't tell you something that she has no idea about."

Shutting the door behind her, Ginny walked into the room as the girls took the opportunity to question her personally. Making no move to answer the questions, Ginny began to ready herself for bed. When she was changed into her pyjamas, she looked to the two girls who were looking at her expectantly.

"Here's all you need to know," she said firmly, setting her hands on her hips. "I asked him out –"

Before Ginny could say another word, the two girls squealed excitably and I shifted on my mattress. Alright, that was it. Now I needed to get over Harry. How I was going to do that was something that I needed to give some more thought to but I wasn't going to distance myself from my friend just because I happened to have unfortunate feelings for her boyfriend.

Ginny cleared her throat, silencing the other girls. "Like I was saying; I asked him out and he turned me down. That's it. End of story."

"But why –"

"End. Of. Story."

Knowing when to quit, Heather and Lydia fell silent and went to ready themselves for bed. I watched as Ginny sighed and turned to face me. With a small smile, she approached my bed and sat herself down on my mattress. She drew the curtains closed around my bed and silenced the area.

"When did you ask him out?" I asked quietly.

"This morning," she admitted, playing with one of the stuffed animals that occupied my bed.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She took a deep breath, giving me a brave smile, "Because I knew you'd worry yourself into a tizzy over it."

"Ginny –"

"Save it," she said gently, reaching out to pat my arm, "Did you think that just because you never told me about your feelings for him, I wouldn't notice?"

"But you never said anything about it?"

"What was I going to say? How dare you crush on a boy who I'm not in a relationship with?" She cracked a smile, "You know we can't control who we love. But why did _you_ never say anything?"

"Because there wasn't any point," I admitted, "We all knew what the inevitable outcome is."

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes, "Look at what's happened today. Do you know what? I think it's a good thing he rejected me because I don't know if I'm actually over Dean yet and I wouldn't want to have used him as a rebound. Besides there's someone else he likes, he's told me just as much." Ginny reached out to take my hand in hers, holding it between both of hers as she said softly, "Don't blame him because he's being so slow. You know what Harry's like – he always was a bit slow on the uptake and it took him this long to realise where his feelings really lay. Who knows how long it's going to take to actually do something about it."

My mouth parted in surprise, eyes widening slightly, "You can't mean –"

She nodded, "Just be patient for a little longer and I promise that by the time the two of you are together, I'll have gotten over him."

"Ginny –"

"It's fine," she assured me as she removed the silencing charm and climbed out of my bed to head towards her own, leaving me to my thoughts. When exactly had Harry's feelings for Ginny cooled? More importantly, when had he began to develop feelings for me?

* * *

Following Ginny's revelation, Harry and my relationship was … odd. According to some of the house we were 'dating' but we weren't. There was an unspoken agreement that we weren't to date other people but we weren't officially dating either. It was all really confusing on my part and I wondered whether he was as confused as I was. But boy, was he making me impatient. I had thought that I would only need to be patient for a few days, maybe even a few weeks. Or even a month at a stretch. But one month became two, two became three, until months had passed in the blink of an eye and the end of the school year was rapidly approaching.

And now, with the recent passing of our headmaster, it was hardly the time to begin dating. Not when this was the sign of the beginning of the oncoming war. Death eaters had ransacked the school and had left a trail of damage behind them, the professors had parted the crowd and Harry had been whisked away by them.

The rest of the house had returned to the common room and it had taken a lot for the younger students to return to their dorm rooms. It had taken more of an effort for them to feel safe in their rooms. As the common room was too small for everyone to sleep in, students from the older years had been assigned to sleep in the dorm rooms of the younger students as a form of protection. The younger students were reassured by this but the rest of us knew that this was only a glimpse into what was coming.

Once everyone had long gone to bed, I remained alone in the common room as I waited for Harry to return. He was likely to be the most shocked after having personally witnessed Professor Dumbledore's death, although he didn't say how it had happened. When we had all crowded around the body he had gladly sunk into my arms before being whisked away. And I knew that there was no way I would be able to sleep comfortably until I saw him.

He walked into the common room, head hung low. The portrait swung shut behind him and I rose to my feet and watched as he began to trek towards the stairs, intending to head to his bed.

"Harry," I called out to him.

The sound of my voice stopped him in his steps. His head shot up, looking around the common room until they found me where I stood beside the fireplace. He was thundering towards me in an instant, sinking against me the moment he reached me. Wrapping an arm around me, he sunk to the floor taking me with him. Holding him tight, I cast a silencing charm around us so we didn't wake any of the lighter sleepers in the night. Harry burrowed his head into my neck, crying out in sorrowful wails. My own eyes watered as I rubbed his back soothingly.

His sobs eased slowly, gentling enough for him to begin speaking. Even then he didn't shift his position. I had taken to leaning against the sofa as my back began to ache and Harry removed his head from my neck to rest against my chest as if drained of physical strength.

"It was Snape," he said eventually, throat hoarse from crying.

"Harry," I said gently, making him look up at me and showing me just how bloodshot his eyes were.

"It was Snape, believe me."

"I do," I assured him, rubbing my thumb over his cheeks to wipe away the last of his tears, "I believe you."

Content with my answer, Harry settled back against me as the sun began to rise behind us. "It was Snape all along. He _trusted_ him! He trusted him and he murdered him. He was working for Voldemort all along and Dumbledore trusted him."

"Godric," I muttered, dropping my head to burrow it into his hair.

"This needs to end," he swore firmly, pulling fully away from me to sit across from me. "This need to end. No one else is going to die for me."

"What are you going to do?"

"Voldemort has horcruxes. 7 of them. I destroyed one in second year and Dumbledore managed to destroy one." Swallowing thickly, Harry reached out to cup my cheek with his hand. "I've already decided that I'm not coming back next year. I'm going to be on the run, looking for the horcruxes. Who knows how dangerous it'll be to return to school and I can't put the rest of the students in that much danger. And that's why we can't date."

"Merlin Harry," I murmured, nuzzling into his hand, "do you really think that, in this situation, I'm going to ask you to date me?"

He smiled slightly, shaking his head. "Because I'm not coming back next year, you better look after yourself Kennedy."

" _You_ better look after yourself, Potter," I shot back, sobering up slightly, "we both know that danger likes to follow after you."

"I'll be fine," he swore solemnly, "I'll be fine and I'll return to you so we can sort this thing between us out. I swear."

* * *

This was _not_ happening. I did not spend a year worrying about Harry's safety only to stand witness as his dead body was brought in for all of us to see. Godric, this was _not_ happening. Harry didn't die so easily. And yet, I watched as Hagrid brought his body towards us and felt the strength leave my knees. Andrew who was stood beside me, reached an arm out to help me stand upright.

Merlin, I thought as tears flooded my eyes, this wasn't fair. It wasn't right! Harry wasn't supposed to be the one who died.

Only hours ago we had been reunited, we had been together, we had both been alive.

 _The noise in the room of requirement ceased as someone followed Neville through the tunnel. No one could believe their eyes. We had spent the year fighting for Harry, in Harry's name and here he was, back in the school. And suddenly, excitement rippled through the crowd and there was new found hope that we would all make it out of this, that we would win. And just like Harry, he was already dividing work between the students to look for the remaining horcrux._

 _The group split up and Harry began to walk through the room, seemingly looking for something. People tried to talk to him but it was like he couldn't hear them. Moving further into the room, he scanned each of the students with a red and gold tie hanging around their necks until his eyes settled on me where I had been discussing something with Neville._

 _Neville, seeing Harry's stare, stepped away to give us some privacy as Harry hurriedly made his way towards me. I turned towards him apprehensively and couldn't help the slight doubt in my mind that he had changed his mind. But those thoughts soon fled when he was stood in front of me._

 _Before either of us could say a word, he reached out to pull me towards him and hugged me tight. Arms going around his neck, I held him just as tightly, taking in the feeling of his body against mine and the realisation that for once I knew where he was, that he was alive. Burrowing his nose in my hair, he let out a deep breath as he steadied himself._

 _I pushed away from him when I thought he was ready to let go. We parted slowly and I smiled in blatant relief. I would have been embarrassed to be wearing my heart on my sleeve had I not seen my smile reflected on him._

 _"So your feelings didn't change then," I said quietly, bringing my fingers up to gently trace over one of the cuts on the side of his face. I wouldn't ask how he got it because I knew the story would only give me a heart attack._

 _"Of course not, you daft woman," he murmured incredulously, closing the distance between us._

 _He kissed me then, in front of the students but I couldn't bring myself to care. Not when there was a shocked gasp from somewhere behind me, or when the murmurs travelled through the room. Instead I let my fingers sink into the hair at the back of his head and held him tight to me. I wouldn't ever tell Harry but I had come to terms with my own mortality; the chances of my dying tonight were high, higher than I would have liked, but that was something I had to come to terms with. And in this instant, being held in his arms, I felt very much alive and I would live in this moment for as long as I could._

 _He was the first to pull away, pressing his forehead to mine as he spoke, "You had better stay alive for me, I've waited too long to lose you in the last minute."_

 _"Aren't you a seeker?" I reminded him as I forced my voice to remain light. "Surely you of all people know that you need patience to catch the golden snitch."_

I hadn't even contemplated the chance of him dying. I had always assumed that he would make it out or would end up as the last one standing. This, I had never contemplated.

"What do we do now?" I found myself asking, voice wobbling slightly as Neville spoke words of bravery in the face of terror. I so wanted to be brave, Harry would have wanted me to be brave but I didn't know if I could be. "What do I do now?"

Andrew called my name gently and I shook myself out of his hold. My hand went to my wand, tightening around it as I took a steading breath. There was no way that I was going to have lost Harry for no reason. Just because we had lost him, didn't mean that we would lose to _them_. And as I looked to Harry's body, I promised him that until my last breath I would –

My hand reached out to grasp tightly at Andrew. He cautiously asked me what was wrong. Except I couldn't tell him, he'd think me mad. Who wouldn't? How was I supposed to tell him that I could have sworn that Harry's body moved? Because he couldn't –

There was a myriad of gasps as Harry tumbled out of Hagrid's arms to shoot a spell at Voldemort. I was rooted to my spot, thousands of emotions passing through me in the space of seconds where I tried to figure out what I felt, how I felt. But it was too much to process. And once I managed to sort through the confusing mass of emotions there was one constant thought repeating through my mind:

He was alive.

We all ran back to the castle to secure it for further fighting and I caught Harry's eyes as he headed back to the castle. The cheeky bastard had the audacity to wink at me before he disappeared from view.

"I'm going to kill him," I muttered as relief filled me.


	2. Epilogue

_9 YEARS LATER_

Drunk Harry was _definitely_ my least favourite version of Harry. Godric, how was it that his drunken habits hadn't changed over the years? He still liked to talk and _talk_ whenever he was smashed and I still had the unfortunate task of sitting and listening to him as he spoke about whatever he was rambling on about.

Merlin, he went on these 'guys' nights with his friends and whilst he never left with the intention of getting drunk that was the way he was returned at the end of the night. At some point the rest of the 'guys' would leave Harry and Ron alone but would have the sense to owl someone to sort the two drunkards out. More often than not, Hermione or I were owled to pick them up from some random pub corner. Today Hermione had the misfortune of being the person that was owled. She had _not_ been happy to have been called away from home to come and sort them out.

She had apparated into my apartment and the sound of their drunken grumbling hadn't surprised me. I simply lowered the heat on the stove and walked out of the kitchen and into my front room to find her struggling under Ron and Harry's combined weight as they both hung off her. Rushing to the older woman's side, I took Harry off from her and we shared an eye roll as I did so.

"Why the hell are you so drunk at 7 bloody o'clock?" I questioned my drunken boyfriend as I led him to the sofa. He gratefully sprawled across it, closing his eyes and I looked back to Hermione.

"They started early," she explained with a frown, glaring at Ron when he began to press wet kisses to her cheek, "Apparently they had some 'important business' to discuss and why that led to them drinking I have no idea."

"Honestly," I muttered with a shake of my head, waving a goodbye to Hermione as she apparated away.

Harry, feeling my eyes on him, blearily opened his eyes and gave me a slow smile. He held his arms open, "Come here, love."

"No way." I pushed his arms down, grimacing at the smell of alcohol on him, "Godric Harry, just how much did you drink to smell so bad?"

He frowned heavily at my words, fumbling with his clothes and reaching into his trousers pockets. I watched unamused as he wrestled his wand out of his pocket and tried and failed to cast a Scourgify charm on himself.

"Scour- Scor- Scourg –"

"Merlin." I rolled my eyes, casting the spell for him and snagging his wand from him. He went to take it back but I held it out of his reach. Harry gave up, falling to his seat with a humph. "I think there'll be less damage if I hold onto this for a while, don't you?"

I went to walk back to the kitchen, aware that I had left the food unattended for a while. But he reached out to catch my hand with a speed that was surprising in his currently inebriated state. He blinked up at me with glazed eyes when I glanced back at him.

"Let's talk," he whined and I tried not to groan when I realised that it was about to begin, " _please_."

"I have things to do," I tried to excuse myself but his hold on my hand tightened.

" _Love_."

"Godric, Harry," I muttered with rolled eyes. I should have never told him that I had a weakness for him calling me love."

He blinked up at me and I sighed, pulling my hand from his hold. His expression faltered as he became crestfallen.

"Let me just go and turn the stove off."

I took longer than I needed as I walked slowly to the kitchen and turned the stove off. Dealing with a drunk Harry wasn't the way I saw myself spending the rest of this evening. Godric, sometimes he'd blurt out some details of an auror mission to me, details that no one outside the department were supposed to know and I couldn't help but grow suspicious that ministry officials were going to come crashing into my apartment to take me away. Sometimes he'd tell me random pieces of gossip that Ron had confided in him like the pregnancy scare he and Hermione had at the beginning of the year. The worst part was that sometimes he forgot what he'd said to me, and sometimes he remembered every single detail. The morning after he'd come to my apartment was always a bit touch and go as I tried to figure out whether he remembered anything.

When I returned to Harry's side, he pulled me down beside him and I rolled my eyes skyward, knowing what was going to happen next. Sure enough, he set his head on my thighs and laid himself along my sofa. I tipped my head on the back of the sofa, pleading silently to the ceiling that he fell asleep quickly.

"Why are you drunk at 7?" I questioned, running my hand through his hair, "Isn't it way too early for you to be in this state?"

"We started early," he repeated Hermione's earlier words, reaching up to take the hand that I was carding through his hair. "We needed to sort something out." Taking the hand he was holding between both of his, Harry started to trace his fingertips over my palm. "Ron wants to propose to Mione soon."

"Why are you saying that like it's a bad thing?" I asked with furrowed eyebrows, spotting the damp patch growing in the corner of the ceiling. I really needed to talk to my landlord about that.

"Because I was planning on proposing soon," he muttered with a pout, not seeing the way his words surprised me. "But we can't both do it at the same time – apparently that's bad luck or some rubbish like that. We were having a drinking game – whoever got drunk first had to push it back."

I kept silent, reeling from his sudden announcement. It took me a few moments to gather myself before lifting my head from the back of the sofa. Just when I went to ask Harry if he meant it, and if he was going to remember what he'd told me, he let out an huge snore.

Typical.


End file.
